


Deep Joy

by Kimmy



Series: Like Fish In The Water [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Cats, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutesy, Established Relationship, Fluff, Holidays, How Do I Tag, M/M, Merpeople, Ocean, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Summer Vacation, Thunderstorms, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmy/pseuds/Kimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q and Bond go on holiday.</p><p>Involves bacon muffins, strawberries with champagne and dorks in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsuyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuyu/gifts).



The anniversary is a dry affair. 

At first, Q plans on staying home, having a swim, cooking James sth delicious and having loads of sex. And then, the night before, James declares they are going out.

He talks about how he is going to have their anniversary handled, and how he is sorry if there isn’t enough water, but this time, it’s his turn. He has plans for the anniversary and he wants to be the one doing the spoiling.

So they will start with the date tonight and tomorrow James will show Q. 

The way he says the word ‘show’ makes Q shiver.

It’s perfect, because James goes all out, does that speech, all  dominant and declaring and then goes.

“Okay?”  

It’s not like Q could say no to James.

 

It’s not like Q really minds. He spends all of his time in the water now, it may be good to see the world outside of Q-Branch.

They take the day off. It’s middle of the week and missions are running high, but no madman is plotting the apocalypse at the moment and it is really not far from everyday reality of MI6, which means R and the minions have it all in hand. So Q indulges in staying in that night, sitting in his office and tying up all the project he had open so nothing is on his mind  for the the bliss of the little one-day anniversary vacation. And he really should have done that at some point. This seem a good enough reason to stop putting it all off.

James, surprisingly, allows him, and when Q finally drags his exhausted arse home after midnight, all he does is give him a kiss, help him change and tuck him into bed. 

He doesn’t get up till noon.

 

But what a lovely morning it is once Q finally can be bothered to open his eyes. James is setting a tray full of breakfast muffins on the duvet next to him, sun is shining for once, and there is no prospect of going to work in the future. After collecting a good morning kiss, Q also finds out that the muffins are with bacon. 

 

He doesn’t moan but it’s a close thing. 

 

They share the laziness of the meal, cuddling together, kissing in between bites, listening to The Fugees Bond put on in the background because Q has a weakness for them. The window is open, but it’s warm outside, and the duvet has been discarded somewhere along the way, both of them just in their pyjama pants, the wind picking up and caressing their skin, moving the sheer curtains and painting the walls in moving harmony of lights. 

 

It’s their anniversary and it’s only now that Q lets that sink in. It’s still slightly unreal, almost too perfect, unbelievably blissful. It’s been a year since James let himself in and casually slipped into Q’s pool, Q’s life and Q’s heart.

 

And for some reason, stayed. Q smiles and kisses him.

 

All in all, anniversary is a dry affair, literally. But it’s nothing big. They don’t go to Paris to declare their undying love on the top of Eiffel Tower. There is no fireworks. (The fire in the kitchen doesn’t count.) They celebrate by living it, like any other day. Like all the days of the past year and all the days to come. Because in the end, what matters is just that, that they share everything. Quiet moments, stressful missions, dry dates and midnight swims.

 

Q almost forgets in that bliss of the morning that their anniversary has only just started and yesterday was a normal day. 

 

He  _ almost _ forgets.

 

But then James declares that the day is still young and it’s time for the morning run.

 

It breaks a spell and Q groans.

 

“Isn’t this supposed to be our anniversary? As in, a day we both enjoy and celebrate and do things we love?”

 

James is out of the bed already, standing in front of the closet and putting his sport leggings  on (the ones Q pretends don’t make him hard as a rock) while smiling in Q’s direction.

 

“I happen to enjoy running in the morning, Nathan.”

 

There is something playful in his voice though and his eyes sparkle and Q thinks that there must be a trick. James wouldn’t leave him on the day of their anniversary.

 

“We are going for a walk.” James yields. “I know you and something tells me that since you moved in here you spend all your free time in the pool and probably have no idea what the area look like. And let me tell you - there’s a lovely park, and that happens to be where we are heading.”

 

Q smiles and sighs, but eventually gets out too and puts some comfortable linen trousers on. It’s still early, but with open windows they can feel the day is going to be hot. Clad in similar white tees, they take the back entrance and start on their way.

 

And if Q keeps dragging his feet and staying back while James pretends he walks and not runs in place, then no one can blame him. Not with how good James’ ass looks in those leggings.

 

When he manages to keep his eyes away from James though, he actually notices their surroundings and internally admits defeat to him. He never had much time to walk around his neighbourhood and look around, take in the area. Now he gets to admire the quiet, suburban feeling of it, the neatly trimmed hedges, beautiful flowers planted along the paths. James is leading them away from the mainroad and onto gravel lane that makes Q smile when the quick hits of James’ shoes against it make the gravel go everywhere and result in most bizarre, but strangely soothing sound.

 

It’s amazing. It’s truly incredibly picturesque, especially when they reach the little park and Q scolds himself for never going here before. Living so close and not even aware of its existence.

 

As his and James’ eyes meet, their expressions open and blissful, and so relaxed, with  no worry in the world, Q’s heart suddenly misses a bit and for the first time in a year, he actually take a while to ponder a moment in time and space where he stands and realizes he really is truly happy. Not just content, but glad for having James in his life, both when the cuddle and when they quarrel. James is it for him.

 

They share a smile, and Q hides it behind his hand because it is dangerously close to a grin now and suddenly, James takes a stop.

 

Looking around, surprised by the sudden break, Q realises they ended up on a little clearing, with a tall tree in the middle, huge, old and empty inside. Next to it, a blanket is laid out, on it a huge bowl of strawberries, a bucket of ice holding a champagne and a picnic basket hiding God-knows-what. 

 

“When the hell were you up and kicking?”

 

He turns to James and hits him playfully but there’s little force in it as he is now grinning. He feels silly but oh so good and kisses James on a cheek with an unspoken thank you. James shies away, but doesn’t reply and Q knows, just knows, it was well before 6am, because he vaguely remembers being awoken by the sun at that time, catching James in a death cuddle and never giving up.

 

“It was worth it. You like it.”

 

“Of course I do, you madman. I love it. I love you.”

 

He sits down on the blankets and pours them both a glass, hand feeding Q the strawberries. 

 

There are pillows thrown around the blanket and Q makes himself comfortable on them, feeling like a roman emperor, being fed fruits and drinking expensive alcohol with the most beautiful man at his side.

 

For a moment, he wonders how James did it. How he caused the whole park to be deserted, how he arranged this all to stay untouched and wait for them there.

 

But he’s MI6. They both are. So he’s not really surprised.

 

He just basks in the glory of it. 

 

It’ better than the date, than the breakfast in bed, it’s better than Q’s idea of staying in the whole day. It’s unearthly, otherworldly, magical. The sun is finding it’s through the leaves, painting the clearing in golden spots making it feel like the inside of a Monet painting. 

 

It’s perfect. And then James feeds him another strawberry before his expression suddenly turns more serious, and he reaches behind them into an empty space in the tree and produces an envelope. He smiles gently and passes it to Q who take sit gingerly.

 

“Happy anniversary, Nathan.”

 

He smiles and Q’s heart melts. The day before, before they left MI6, Q presented him with his gift - the DB5. They came home in it and Q got his thank you in a deiciously filthy way. He knew James was over the moon. But somehow, while he was quite satisfied with his gift, holding the envelope, he felt like James would outdo him anyway.

He opened it and stared at the content for a long while, awe struck and absolutely not able to take the reality in.

 

He took a sharp breath and looked James in the eyes. 

 

“Will we really?”

 

His voice catches, but it just the sheer surprise and happiness, and James smiles.

 

“I already got Gareth’s blessing. And it’s all booked. We’re going on holidays. Two long weeks all for us.”

 

Q kisses him and leans his forehead against his. His eyes are damp with joy and James whispers, looking him in the eye.

 

“You’ll get to swim in the ocean, Nathan.”

 

Q laughs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being late but I suddenly realised I was jumping between tenses and was too lazy to fix it. All fixed now and up for your enjoyment.

“Nathan.”

 

Nothing but more shuffling answers him.

 

“Nathan.”

 

It’s as if he was not even there.

 

“Nathaniel, I do not like being ignored.” He takes a moment to look over the clothes that Q is currently throwing out of the closet with lighting speed and notices the terrifying number of sweaters among them. “Wait, do you even have anything but the cardigans?”

 

Q turns in angers and glares at him furiously.

 

“No! That’s the thing. I have the linen slacks and 2 or 3 t-shirts, but all my other clothes are formal wear! I never bother to take anything from dad’s when I moved out because I have a pool now so basically, I dress up for work or when I have to go out, which usually also includes formal wear and I.” He stutters and his cheeks suddenly paint a very nice pink. “I just spend my days in the pool if I’m here alone. And now that I have you, I either spend the day in the pool in with you or we’re out in the formal wear or, well, or…” He starts to mumble and James has to listen carefully to catch that. “Or I like to steal your clothes.” 

 

He cannot help it. James laughs at that. 

 

“You’re  free to steal my clothes all you want, but we need to get you sth casual too. So how about you stop stalling and introduce me to you father?” Q’s face took an unhealthy, earthly shade and he looks conflicted. James, however, doesn’t waver. “Oh, come on. It’s just an hour ride from here and we can spare that time, seeing as we still have tomorrow to pack before we need to head out on Friday.” He holds up a finger to stop Q who looks on a verge of interrupting. “And if you keep finding an excuse I will start to think you don’t actually  _ want  _ me to meet your family. I thought we were serious, Q. We’ve been together for a year, I’ve moved in 9 months ago, even when we use the London flat, you’re there with me. I’m in this long term. For good. I thought so are you.”  He lets those words hang between and keeps himself from biting his lip.

 

Q’s posture suddenly deflates and he sits down on the bed. On the freshly ironed shirt, to be precise, but Bond wisely decides not to mention that.

 

“I am just a bit nervous, I guess? I keep telling myself next time I will take you, keep telling myself it’s not the time. I’m sorry. I’m just. I  _ am  _ in this for real. For keeping. As long as you’ll have me. An that’s the thing. I don’t know how to do this. I never had a serious relationship, James.” He blushes a pretty pink. “I never reached meet the family stage before. I have no idea how to go around this, James.” He looks the man in the eye pleadingly.

 

James smiles gently and sitting next to him, pecks Q on the lips.

 

“Let’s go. We’ll manage just fine.”

 

And they do. They do, up until they park in front of Q’s family home and the man in question refuses to go out.

 

“Nathaniel Bonfils. Get yourself together. You haven’t visited your father in three months. Out of that car now.”

 

Q glares at him and petulantly exists the Aston. Bond looks in astonishment at his boyfriend suddenly reaching age 5, before getting out himself and locking the car. They approach the door together, and James has to ring the doorbell, because, obviously, Q is still pouting.

 

The man who opens the door is short but slim, probably in mid fifties and he has a storm of dark hair, which, even though thinning and turning silver in places, makes it clear he’s Q’s father.

 

James is suddenly very,  _ very  _ nervous.

 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bonfils.”

 

He smiles in what he hopes is amicable way, while Q decides he’s done with the pout and attacks his dad, drawing him into bear hug.

 

“Dad - James, James - Dad. I am sorry I’m a horrible son, I really meant to introduce you sooner.” 

 

After which he proceeds to race into the house, leaving James on the doorstep, all alone with Alain Bonfils, smiling in what is  _ not  _ a panicked manner.

 

“Come in, James. I am dying to meet a man who stole my boy’s heart. You’ve been his boyfriend for a year now and we only meet now.”

 

James takes his shoes off and allows himself to be led to the couch, where a tray of tea rests (and somehow he was not even surprised by that, considering the time Q spent refusing to get out of the car) but there’s no Q in sight.

 

He takes his seat, starting to feel increasingly awkward, because when he said he wanted to meet Q’s father, he didn’t mean one on one meeting.

 

Thankfully, just then, before James can say a word, Q comes tumbling down the stairs. 

 

“Sorry. I just had to. Do. Something…” He trips over the words, before jumping onto the couch next to James, tucking his legs under him.

 

It’s amazing to watch how playful and comfortable Q feels in his childhood home, how carefree and childish again. Alain’s cough turns their attention back to the man. He looks very formidable sitting in an armchair, with a cup of tea in one hand and a raised brow.

 

“The albums are probably behind the radiator?”

 

Q looks very hurt and put upon, the pout is suddenly back, he buries his face in James’ houlder and groans. Then he straightens himself, the ritual show is over and he makes himself comfortable next to James while Alain relaxes.

 

“Under the wardrobe this time.” He says with a small smile. Then, turning to James. “Figuring out the tail at 3 was very interesting. Dad took lots of photos that I really don’t like. But sadly, I know you’ll find a way to see them anyway.”

 

James’ smirk is answer enough.

 

Alain’s expression is far from that.

 

“You know about the tail?”

 

James gulps.

 

“We've been living together for months now, Mr. Bonfils.” The treads carefully. “I have found out very early--” He figures it may be better to omit the fact he found out the very first day. “--and it never bothered me. I find Q stunning in both forms.” He tries on his most charming smile that works well on missions, but feels very weak on this one. Trying to up charm levels, he continues. “My mother was French, and it so happens and I know the language very well, I find it incredible that your surname is Bonfils. It stands for “beautiful son”, after all. Couldn’t be more fitting.” 

 

_ Pathetic, Bond. Pathetic. Keep the smile on and don't look at Nathan. _

 

Why did no one ever warn him meeting your boyfriend's family would be that hard.

 

But then Alain Bonfils smiles.

 

“I take it you won’t need the shovel talk, then.” As if that mere sentence isn’t one in itself. “I can see you two love each other. I hope you’ll cherish that.”

 

And that’s it. The mood turns light, the conversation flows easily, tea is consumed, dinner is eaten and clothes are packed.

 

But most importantly, James gets to see the albums in the end. 

 

_ And  _ the VHS.

 

It’s a pleasant day. It’s great to see Q in his childhood territory. And the way he and his father seem to understand each other without words… Alain Bonfils brought Q up all on his own. There was no one else there for them, just the two of them against the rest of the world. It’s obvious they would have a very strong bond, but it’s clear they simply love each other deeper than anything.  It’s a tiny family, but it’s a family, and it makes James ache for what he doesn’t have.

 

But while he never got to see his mother take up knitting or his father lose his hair, he feels a tiny sparkle of hope because maybe, just maybe, he has a new family now, right?

 

And although he only met Q’s father now, and knows he would go with the all the holidays plan anyway, he feels now that he has a chance, maybe, just maybe, he should get a blessing.

 

It wa

It’s the longest, most difficult conversation of James’ life. It takes Alain outright telling him to get to the point before he even manages to start with the holidays idea. Somehow, he manages to cut it brief after remembering the explanations during packing, stumbles onto the point in the end, shows Q’s father pictures of their location, leaves his phone number and exits the office… alive.

 

He counts that as a success.

 

Q meanwhile got down to fixing about every single electronic device in the house, because IT talent must have come from his mother’s side of the family. 

 

It’s late evening by the time they finally get back in the Aston. Q is dead on his feet on the ride back and while he aches for a relaxing swim he is really not in the mood for waiting through the drying. By the time he parked the car in their garage, Q is half asleep. 

 

Gently nudging the man out of the car, James gets him out of the clothes and into the bed while he’s still dozing. He quickly strips himself and having checked the systems were armed and the windows closed should it rain tonight, he slips in next to Q.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“What for?” Q is not that asleep apparently.

 

“For today. And for…” He hesitates briefly, but the darkness helps him find the courage. “...for accepting me into your family.”

 

Q smiles sleepily at and pecks James on the lips, eyes never opening.

 

“You have been family for a long while now, James. Thank  _ you. _ ”

 

James hummed. “And for what would  _ you _ thank  _ me _ ?”

 

“For being there.”

 

And with that, they drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are life.  
> Also, part 3 will also be a bit late, because it's in parts itself. You can have a sneak peak on the Facebook 00Q group.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REMEMBER TO SUPPORT POLAND TONIGHT!!! *Euro madness*

  


**5 months earlier**

 

Bond is immensely proud of Q when they cannot find the microphone, but his good mood disappears as they decide to solve the problem in the simplest way and gag him. At that point it becomes clear aggravating your captor even more is a very bad idea, and a damp rag thrust deep enough into his throat that he almost chokes is not very pleasant a feeling. Neither are the coarse ropes binding his wrists tightly behind his back, going around his torso, knees and ankles.

And hugging his arse in a very unflattering and painful way.

 

They trussed him up good, gagged him, and threw him in the fucking boot. If that wasn’t a reason to hate Mondays Bond had no idea what was. He just hoped Q activated Smart Blood the moment James stopped reciting the way.

 

And of course, they bring him to some obscure abandoned neighbourhood, on the bank, and proceed to throw him on to ground. On the sand. He doesn’t like where this is going.

 

When the next thing that come out of the other car’s boot is a set of two heavy weights and another coil of rope James suddenly gets very, _very_ nervous and begins to struggle, which helps little except for earning him a kick to the gut.

 

He hopes Q comes up with something, because right now it doesn’t look good.

 

He honestly has no idea how he will get out of that one.

 

They tie the weights together and trap them in an intricate web of ropes that ensures they won’t slip out and then fix them to James’ ankles with another piece. The knots, sadly, are professional, tight and there is definitely no chance of getting out of it.

 

Alive.

 

James’ starts to struggle harder as panic sets in because there is no way this will end like that. He got out of every possible fuck up, but if they throw him in the river like that he will not survive.

 

And he wants to survive, he desperately wants to lie now that he has a reason too.

 

Before Q, risk was all he had. Now risk is a necessary part of the job. But now, he wants to defy the risk and get home to Q. And he really starts to doubt if he can get out of that one.

 

They drag him though the beach and into the ice cold water (as if he wasn’t freezing already, just in his pants), throwing him far enough that he has to struggle to somehow get on his knees while tied up or he will drown.

 

It takes effort with how restrained and cold he is, but he manages.

 

And it is only then, as he kneels in the water that reaches to his chest, that he realises the tide is rising.

 

They rip the gag out and it’s nice to breathe free but it doesn’t mean any good.

 

“Q, a little help here!” He practically shouts, hoping the microphone is still working even though James is soaked through.

 

He keeps praying Q hears him and is tracking him. He keeps praying rescue is on its way. He keeps cursing the fact he doesn’t have the earpiece in because silence has never been so terrifying.

 

“Don’t bother.” The goon that seems to be in charge (of course the boss have made himself scarce already) barks at him. “Even if your fancy gadget still works the way is blocked and well protected. We have nice jammers too, just in case you had trackers. So there is little chance anyone know where you disappeared after you stopped telling them the way.”

 

_No. This wasn’t happening. He didn’t get the smart guys for once._

 

“Now we’re going to have a talk. Or more precisely, I am going to ask a few questions and if you fancy getting out of there before the tide rises, you are going to answer me. Of course, as you are probably aware, we do not necessarily depend on those answers and should you decide that Queen and country are worth dying for, we can always go with that.”

 

_Oh no. Of course he did._

 

Well, if he was going down, at least he will go down quickly and with pride, before his ass freezes off.

 

He holds his head high and smiles at the man.

 

“I’ll take option two, thank you.”

 

The falsely amicable expression on the goon’s face is immediately replaced with a wicked smirk as he motions for the other goons to go forward and before James can regret this decision, the gag is roughly shoved back into his mouth and he is again dragged further into the river, the ropes digging in painfully as the weight and resistance of the water pulls them, and he fights to stand up as the ground disappears from under his knees and the water level is higher.

 

They leave him in the water, tied up like a pig, deep enough that when he is standing, a heavy weight anchoring his ankles in place securely enough it hurts, the water reaches his neck and considering the flow has already started he is _fucked._

 

He watches as they drive away and when after around 15 minutes and water reaching his chin there are no MI6 vehicles in sight, he start to curse his luck. It looks like whatever equipment they had really worked and the agency has trouble locating him.

 

They will eventually find him. With where he stopped giving directions and the number of cameras jammed it will only take a moment before they will have his most probable location and then, hopefully, the agents will notice the tiny dot of his head in the water.

 

Half an hour later he has to hold his breath as the water covers him.

 

Another ten minutes and even the slow movement of the water doesn’t allow him to take in some fresh air.

 

It’s 17 minutes and 34 seconds later that he starts to get dizzy and an overwhelming fear of death gets to him and then suddenly, suddenly, there are soft lips on his own and a air in his lungs and it never felt so good.

 

His sight is blurry in the muddy water, but the storm of dark hair and the shining beauty of the tail are unmistakable.

 

It is obvious Q is struggling with the rope anchoring James to the weights now buried in the bottom, the knot being sturdy and tightened by the struggling and tugging both by Bond and the thugs but no tools at hand. Q’s desperately trying to loosen the ropes with his nails, when suddenly they pop out further and enlighten, getting harder and sharper. It’s too handy for him to be astonished, so rather than focusing on his newfound abilities, he uses the claws (that is probably the appropriate name) to cut James from the weights.

 

He catches him in a hold close to an embrace and quickly gets them to the surface.

 

They land on the sandy bank, both struggling to catch their breath. With mild surprise, Q notices the nails are gone, and for a moment he wonders if he imagined this, but James is there, alive next to him and that is all that matters.

 

There is a huge Jeep on the bank too and a very confused looking Eve. Poor thing keeps staring at Q’s tail, and it quickly occurs to James that he must have trusted her on the secret so he asked for her to come instead of someone else, but clearly, didn’t enclose the details…

 

“Eve? How about you cut me out and then you can keep trying to let the merman thing sink in?”

 

The poor woman seems to shake herself out of the stupor then and gets a knife to free James. It takes a while for the blood to get flowing easily back, but James had been through worse and gritting his teeth, he gives himself a minute to rest, stands up and kissing Q on the lips, chaste and loving like only a survivor kisses, before hoisting the boffin up in a bride’s hold, which promptly causes him to squeak.

 

“Put me down, James! What the hell?!”

 

James hums. “And how else are you going to get into the car, unable to transform?”

 

Q pouts. “Bond, put me down."

  
"Q, will you stop wiggling, you bloody fish?"

  
"FISH?! I'll have you know I just saved your stupid ass from drowning."   


"I was fine"

  
"Yes, you did look a fetching shade of unconscious"   


James glares at him. “Stop wiggling or I will tell Eve about last month.”

 

Eve lights up at that. “What happened last month?

 

"Q, shut up, or do you want to have that tail on buzzfeed tomorrow?!

 

“James, for God’s sake, just put me in the car already. Eve, if you tell anyone, I'm revoking your cat cuddling privileges. _And_ I will have that nail polish you love withdrawn from production. It's just a few keystrokes.”

 

It’s that look that has brought nations down before again and Eve knwos when to call it a day, so she hopes the pictures taken already aren't blurry and puts down her phone, sighing.

 

“Fine. But I'm keeping a copy cause you look cute.”

 

There’s not much Q can do but glare, as James finally buckles him in, falling onto the backseat himself.

 

“Sorry about the upholstery, Eve.” He mutters, not opening his eyes and focusing on the precious feeling of air in his lungs.

 

The woman only smirks as she starts the engine.

 

“Oh, don't worry, boys. It’s a car issued by Six.”

 

**Later in the Bond-Bonfils household**

 

Eve is making tea and pretending to be perfectly cool about the tail and the pool taking half the ground floor while James is sitting on the floor next to where Q is lying, very put off, pout full on and grumpy like a cat.

 

A huge tower of dry towels stands on one side of James while another, of used, wet ones, is slowly rising on the other.

 

Q of course, cannot stop wiggling. He raises himself on the elbows and looks James in the eyes.

 

“James, come on, those towels aren't working!” He adopts a scarily good expression of a puppy. “Bring the hair dryer!”

 

James isn’t that easily swayed though. "And you claim to be a genius? What happens when water meets current, Q? Maybe if you stopped wiggling.”

 

Q doesn’t, of course, and James calmly proceeds to towel dry his hair, which is slowly turning a very adorable mass of fluffiness.

 

James smiles at Q.

 

“You are aware they get even more of a storm if they meet moisture?”

 

He’s met with _the_ glare.

  
“Sush. Less talking more toweling.”   


"Okay.”

 

The silence doesn’t last long though.

 

“But you could pass for a tiny Jackson.” James laughs. “You know, the afro era.”  


The only thing that saves him is Eve coming in from the kitchen, a tray with three cups of steaming tea and brownie (which came out of nowhere but with Eve it’s better not to ask questions) balanced on one hand and the phone snapping a picture in the other.

 

“Leave him be, Fluffy.” She winks at Q. “I’ll help you get your legs back and you, James, go drink this, eat the brownie, and then take a long, hot bath. Being tied this long in a freezing water does little good to the muscles.”

 

As James devours the cake and tea Eve made him and heads to the bathroom, she kneels down and focuses on Q, who is still grumbling fluffyhead, but seems resigned to his own fate.

 

“So… merman?”

 

The glare she is met with is all the more forceful considering she didn’t expect it.

 

“Merman. And please don’t ask how it works. You have no idea how much of an offence on a personal level it is that I have no idea. I love logic, but I defy logic. Get over it.”

 

He looks so cute with that put off expression, she cannot help but giggle.

 

And then there’s a doorbell.

 

“Eve?” Q raises an eyebrow.

 

Eve gets slightly uncomfortable at that, but he faces him head high.

 

“You know how me and R, we are…?”

 

And if that’s not adorable, the woman who is MI6’s best sniper, stuttering over the word ‘girlfriend’.

 

“Yes, Eve, I am quite familiar with the idea of a homosexual couple of secret agents. Mine has no pink hair, but I think I get it.”

 

Eve blushes the shade of R’s hair and continues.

 

“Well, they’ll want to know why this was all hush hush in the Six. So if I’m to honest, I think you should bring Mallory and Tanner in but that’s not exactly the time to do so, but…” She suddenly looks very determined. “R deserves to know.”

 

Q sighs and lays down again.

 

“I wanted to get her in at some point anyway. You too!” The doorbell interrupts them again, more forceful. “Go, open the door.”

 

R takes the whole tail thing a lot better, but then again, R is a bit bizarre and everyone loves her for that, if no one wants to study it closer.

 

She takes a look at Q sprawled in all the fluffy hair and tail glory, mutters “Cool!” and declares she changes pink to blue to celebrate that.

 

That is followed by a show of her hair changing the colour there and then.

 

Eve looks like she cannot take more supernatural occurrences today, and Q is sure there must be a fucking logic somewhere there and he will make R work it out with him.

 

“Okay, now.” R takes over toweling Q dry, the two boffins immediately falling into a debate of how they were even possible, did R’s hair always do that, when does the tail appear and Q immediately launching into the tale of the discovery of the nails.

 

James and Eve in the meantime decide to just watch in amusement as their other halfs have their fun, James curled up in the blanket, receiving a massage from Eve after admittedly trying day.

 

“We’re lucky bastards, aren’t we?”

 

He turns to her.

 

Her lips curled up in amusement. “Says the man who’s been kidnapped and tortured today.”

 

James groans, and slaps her thigh halfheartedly, it being the only part he can reach nestled on her chest as he is.

 

But Eve laughs melodically and nods into his hair.

 

“Lucky bastards we are.”

 

Next day Q enters the Q-Branch to “Under The Sea” playing from the speakers every time he opens the door to his office and a ‘meh-maid’ mug on his desk, tea in it still steaming and R grinning from his chair.

 

“Why are you working in a bloody _secret_ agency, R?”

 

“You hired me, hun.”

 

R winks at him, before exiting the office in an awfully cheery mood and ocean blue hair.

 

Q takes a look at the mug, sighs and takes a sip.

 

**Back in the present**

 

They are packing the last suitcase when the bell rings. It’s odd considering they are heading out the next morning and barely anyone knows their address.

 

A quick check on the security system monitor though confirms it’s the evil ones. Eve and R are standing outside and grinning into the camera.

 

Finding no real excuse not to let them in, James opens the door.

 

“Hello, boys!”

 

They say in perfect, if a bit creepy unison, before Eve rushed to explain.

 

“Sorry to be gatecrashing you just before you’re heading out, but with R trying to save 003’s ass, you’ve disappeared  before we could catch you on your last day.” Q joined James then, smiling at the girls and wrapping himself around his boyfriend. “So, we’re here to say, happy anniversary!”

 

James smiles at them and lets them in, locking the door behind them, and they make themselves comfortable in the living room, chatting about Six and their life, as Q makes tea.

 

When he comes back Eve and R produce a paper wrapped package from, somewhere, again… and hand it to the boys with their best wishes.

 

The expressions on their faces are identical “We will be here to see your reaction.” that are making James a bit concerned about the content, but Q had already dug into the gift with gusto, tearing the paper to shreds.

 

Honestly, sometime James is wondering if the man is half fish, or half cat.

 

The content appears to be a book with a photo of James and Q together, snapped God knows where and when.

 

What’s clear about the photo though, is the love in their eyes, as they look at each other with enamoured and shy expressions, as if afraid to be caught.

 

It’s a photo book.

 

There are photos James and Q remember Eve taking on office parties or her birthday celebration, that one time they allowed themselves to be dragged to a double date. There are sneaky snaps from her smartphone, a scarily high number of them, and even some…

 

“R?” Q practically growls. “Are those CCTV snapshots from this house?”

 

R’s hair turns back to a lovely shade of pink then as she blushes and isn’t that an interesting discovery…

 

“There are CCTV shots from Six too…”

 

And Q would probably get his revenge with a frightening force and something would probably be set on fire, but James hugs him from behind, and turns his attention back to the photos and he cannot be angry with them because the page is actually a multimedial one, interactive and damn moving while being flexible still.

 

Q squeals.

 

"Like Harry Potter!"  


"I am dating a teenager."  


James laughs, but then they focus on the picture and its looped shot of that first day, when James broke into Q’s and accidentally was let in on a secret and into Q’s life.

 

They sit in the pool, James looking very much in awe and carefully caressing Q’s tail while the merman bushes lightly, but keeps staring at James with delight.

 

It’s perfect.

 

The whole book is full of moments like that, tender, intimate, secret and loving. It’s the two of them kissing in Q-Branch when it’s empty, the two of them holding hands on a walk in the park, James adored by bloody rope marks and Q with his fluffy hair being carried out of the Thames bridal style. It’s their life. A year of ups and downs they approached together. The year of being ultimately happy.

 

It’s better than any of them could ever imagine.

 

It’s the evening, only after they saw Eve and R out, that they sit down on the couch and let the happy tears fall on the glossy pages full of memories. It’s powerful, seeing it there, almost tangible, that thing they built.

 

It’s how they fall asleep. James fold the couch out so they’re comfier and they curl up together above the story of their life. It’s only been _theirs_ for a year, but there are many more ahead, and tomorrow, they are heading out to see the ocean.

 

Shining like gold, pure and blue and endless like the love between them.


	4. Chapter 4

  
  


It’s only after James somehow manages to drag half asleep Q from the bed to the reclined Aston seat that the problem becomes obvious. 

 

Aston Martin DB5 was not created as a family car.

 

Bond looks between the two suitcases and the small boot again.

 

He sighs.

 

Challenge accepted.

 

In the end, it only sets them back by an hour and Q is still dead to the world, so Bond slides into the driver’s seat and starts them on the way to Pierrefonds while he can still enjoy it Q-complaining-free ride. It’s quiet, peaceful and a rare occurance, so he knows well not to underestimate that.

 

They make it almost to the destination before Q yawns and stretches, blinking those big beautiful eyes adorably. James smiles at him.

 

“Hello, sleepyhead.”

 

Q is still quite melty but he turns to James and pecks him on the cheek.

 

“Hello.”

 

He smiles sheepishly and yawns once again before making an effort of coming back into the world of the living.

“Where did you put my glasses?”

 

“Glove compartment. Actually, why you won’t just use lenses?”

 

It suddenly strikes Bond that it must be impractical in their profession to have glasses.

 

Q smirks next to him.

 

“Gives people an idea I’m fragile and possible kidnappers a notion they can render me incapable easily. Did you honestly never noticed I never wear them at home?”

 

James almost misses the light turning green at that.

 

“No, no I never did. How did I never notice?”

 

Q bursts out laughing and squeezes his hand on the gear lever.

 

“Don’t worry. Even such a great spy as you couldn’t resist the distracting nature of my charm. And you might have been a bit focused on the tail.”

 

He winks at James, who shakes his head in wonder.

 

“What are this then?”

 

He motions to the pair of transparent-black specks Q is putting on.

 

“I should actually be wearing glasses when I work on the computer because of high eye pressure, but I always forget. I started to actually do this at work when I become a spy because it makes people underestimate me. They are fully computerized though. The adjust to what I am looking at and only change the shape of the lenses if I am staring at the screens for too long. But usually they are just plastic, neutral lenses with no function that I keep on to fool friend and foe.” His smile turned mischievous. “But if I tap the right button.”

 

He touched the side of the frames and suddenly he was in sunglasses. It was James’ turn to laugh. 

 

“My little genius.”

 

They stop talking then, instead focusing on looking out for the signs as they approach the castle in Pierrefonds.

 

By some miracle, they even manage to find a parking space near enough and head towards the majestic gates.

 

They wander around, hand in hand, eyes wide in delight and awe. They take pictures and a nice girl from a group of student son a trip agrees to take a picture of them.

She insists they kiss for a photo and Bond suddenly gets very self conscious and embarrassingly stuttering, starts to protest, but Q laughs, silences him with a  kiss and the agent melts into it.

 

The picture ends up perfect and later James will frame it and put it in the living room. 

 

They buy the tickets to see the interior and Q fall for the castle shop, buying postcards with the ruins before restoration and a book on the history of a castle along with a DVD of some teenagers-aimed adventure series that was filmed there. 

 

Bond decides to indulge him and not protest. He will sit down with him and watch it  and he may even enjoy it. He did watch a lot of Disney on long flights.

 

Instead, james takes advantage of the stalls in the yard selling trinkets and lottery tickets and an archery game next to it, buying a few tries and after losing first two arrows to estimate the way the bow was tampered with, aiming perfectly and winning Q a strange plushie that seems to be a blue giraffe with short neck if it wasn’t for the fact it’s blue and has short neck so Bond really doubts it’s a giraffe.

 

Q seems to love it though and keeps it at his side for the rest of the walk around the castle and the town, and promptly snuggling up to it like a pillow when they finally get back in the car.

 

Paris is their next stop, but they have to change the plan when it start to pour when they approach the city. 

 

Q doesn’t seem very disappointed and falls asleep on his blue giraffe with short neck, which James is grateful for when they end up stuck in a huge jam not long after, but silently he promises himself to take Q to Paris one day anyway. 

 

They could make a weekend trip and actually take time to see the city instead of just taking a look going through. 

 

They stop for dinner after getting out of the jam and Q gobbles something huge and greasy that James can hardly look at from above his baked potatoes and coleslaw. 

 

They fall into another jam right away, but Q snuggles back into the giraffe and nods off again.

 

It makes James wonder just how long was he up before he dragged him away on the anniversary...

 

They make it through the traffic jam with Q still blissfully out of it, but an hour and a half of delay. Because of that, it’s already dark when they reach Carcassonne, but the castle is still open, because there is some festival taking place.

 

James and Q drive by, admiring the majestic, huge silhouette of the castle lit up in the starry night and head for the hotel, where they check in and leave the suitcases. They settle on taking a bath too, before heading out, seeing as they are sweaty and tired and really in want of refreshing after the journey. 

 

They take the bath  _ together. _

 

They manage to get out after 40 minutes or so and the music is still heard from the open window overlooking the castle, so the dress up lightly and head out to the fortress in the night, James decidedly  _ not  _ staring at Q who is positively glowing, looking beautiful and relaxed as he never does in the linen trousers, white top and Bond’s own shirt fluttering behind his…

 

Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? 

 

It seems strange to question it and only wonder  _ now,  _ after a year, but it never occurred to Bond.

 

They were always just them. They spent their days together, usually quiet and their conversations were never really about what they were.

 

James decides he rather like the word boyfriend. It seems a bit childish, but better than others. Partner sound slike work. Lover sounds like sex.

 

He hopes he will have sth better than them all soon.

 

Right now though, he just holds Q’s hand as they walk into brightly lit courtyard and and wander between the stalls. Q is captivated by the fire show they stop to watch. James is captivated by Q. 

 

He must admit the dancers are quite captivating too, tough. They move with grace that is almost lethal. Dancing with fire, breathing fire, existing in harmony with the burning element, shining bright and in sync with pure energy. The flames burst in all the different colours, there are swords set on fire as the dancers enact the famous battle between Darth Maul and Qui-Gon Jinn.

 

Q and James kiss under the stars as they watch the lit up town from the ramparts, drinking mulled wine they bought on one of the stalls.

 

And then suddenly, the whole castle bursts with the energising beat of the song as Michael Jackson starts playing, and a laser show begins. Q starts to moonwalk around Bond in circles and he cannot stop laughing. It’s magical almost. The lights are drawing pictures on the huge white screen in the middle of courtyard, forming tunnels and waves in the smoke that covered the whole castle and painting the walls in lines of colour. The music fades through Michael Jackson as Q leans in and tells James it’s a tribute on the birthday of the dead king, and slowly powerful notes of soundtracks from Star Wars and Pirates of the Caribbean and calm down to the slow flow.

 

James takes Q in his arms then and leads him, surprised at his complete and utter lack of any dance skills even after performing perfect moonwalk. How can a creature this grateful in water be so hopeless on his legs is beyond James.

 

They find their rhythm quite quickly though, closed in an embrace, just swaying with their foreheads touching, so intimate a feeling even in the public. 

 

It is not long before they return to the hotel, both exhausted by the journey and lulled to sleep by the lazy nature of the festival coming to an end. The fires burning out, the night embracing them. They step into the hotel room, and out onto the terrace, looking into the night sky once again.

 

James curls himself around Q from behind, nuzzling into his hair. 

 

“I’m happy.” He whispers, and he is. Those little holidays haven’t really started yet but they are already one of the best moments in his whole life. “I’m glad to have this. I’m glad to have you.”

 

Q smiles a smile so true, gentle and soft, understanding and reciprocating, something melts inside James.

  
And then they kiss, under the stars, and lay down to sleep together with the window still open and the wind caressing them as they slid into slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

 

It’s still early when they get up, the sun only rising, Q up and about without prompting for once. 

 

They take a while with wrangling the suitcases back into the boot, but they slowly start to have practice and it is in no time, that James is behind the wheel and Q has his nose in the tablet.

 

The roads are blissfully empty, the sun is shining and after a while, they open the roof. 

 

Q’s hair take it the hard way. 

 

It’s calm and peaceful. James enjoys every minute of it and it makes him think of why he loves to drive so much.

 

They make a stop in Barcelona for breakfast and spend an hour or so walking around the city and admiring Gaudi’s work, James discovering the man is apparently a hero to Q.

 

He must admit, though, that even he sees the exceptional beauty in the buildings. 

 

They stop to eat in a tiny restaurant tucked in the yard of one of the buildings, lit up by the stray rays of sun falling through the roof,  shaded by garlands of ivy falling down the walls and climbing the lamp cables connecting them. It’s extremely cosy, there are only a few couples but them, and the owner immediately launches into a conversation with them, Q answering with broken Spanish because James, the bastard, pretends not to speak it. 

 

They eat the most delicious magdalenas and churros and enjoy a cup of coffee before coming back to the car and heading on.

 

The traffic gets heavier but it’s still a smooth way, no jams or wheather changing their plans. It’s only in Seville that they make a stop again, wandering around the city for a while and finding a restaurant to get paella for dinner. Full and satisfied, they spend another while just sitting in the middle of the town and appreciating the lazy afternoon.

 

When they get to the car, ready to get on the road again they switch so that James can take a few hours of a nap while Q drives. 

 

He wakes up after little under 4 hours, but he’s rested enough, so he offers to get behind the wheel again, knowing how much Q prefers the passenger seat even despite being a supreme driver.

 

It’s not much more to go, and only James knows where are they heading exactly after all, so it’s all alright in the end. 

 

It’s quiet again now that they rode off of the main roads, and Q leaves his tablet alone, instead choosing to stare at James with a small mysterious smile on his face, saying nothing.

 

James peeks at him with questioning gaze, but keeps his eyes on the road, waiting for an explanations to come.

 

None does, but Q leans in and pecks him on the cheek before settling in more comfortably, pillowing his head on the blue giraffe with short neck and continuing to watch him with something akin to awe or contentment on his face.

 

So he leaves it alone.

 

He kind of knows.

 

The turn onto the road leading to the town as the sun begins to set, watching as it slowly starts to flicker and shine out with street lamps, windows and bars and storefronts.

 

It’s a magical sight, with the sound of the waves in the background and the town in it’s white, lit up glory, set on the huge cliff like a specks of gold fallen from the sky.

 

Q’s eyes are drawn to it, mouth agape in delight and wonder. James peeks at him, not a little bit smug to cause the reaction.

 

“You said we’re close, is this where we’re staying?” He turns to Bond, excited like a child on Christmas, eyes shining with something unearthly beautiful. 

 

“It is our town, to say so, in that is where we will go when we want to wander around, sightsee, do the shopping or eat in a restaurant.” He starts with a small smirk. “It is not, to be precise, where we are staying, though.” He keeps his hands steady on the wheel when the road straightens, empty ahead of them and leans in to catch a glimpse of Q and whisper to him. “I promised you ocean, after all.”

 

Q looks like he wants to dig in, but he knows how stubborn James is and that he will find out soon anyway, so he drops it and focuses on the enchanting sights around him as they head a few miles more outside of the town. It’s darker there, not a street lantern in sight, not a building. Gloomy, it could almost be, if not for the harmony and quiet that in nothing but peaceful and if mysterious, the area is nothing but welcoming. 

 

They take a turn around the cliff finally and an otherworldly sight opens in front of them. James slows the car down and although careful to not crash them, watches Q closely as the man struggles to find the words. 

 

It’s a tiny bay hidden from the world with crystal clear water and a private beach. The high cliffs enclose it from the rest of the shore, but the endless beauty of the ocean unfold outside of it. 

 

On the beach, a small cottage sits, brand new and welcoming with it’s wooden warmth and white shine. The door are open and James stops the car next to it, watching with delight as Q’s expression turns curious and following him as he gets out of the car and inside.

 

He’s enchanted by the place and James is enchanted by him. 

 

“How do you like it?”

 

Q looks at him and bursts out laughing, jumping into an embrace.

 

“I love it!”

 

They laugh and share a kiss and walk out to stand on the beach and watch as the last rays of the sun drown in the infinity of the water.

 

James stands behind Q, hugging him tightly, nuzzling into his hair and whispering into his ear with so much dedication, so much love, so much feeling.

 

“I promised you ocean. Your private ocean where you can swim and be free and relax. Where you don’t have to stare longingly at the water as others play. Where you can display your beautiful tail in its full glory, proud not ashamed or afraid. Where it’s just me and you, and us. Just us. Where you won’t have to wait for midnight. Where you won’t have to seek cover. Where you can be safe to let your real nature flourish.”

 

He kisses Q’s head.

 

“I love you, Nathan. I love you so much.”

 

And although he cannot see him, he can hear Q’s smile.

 

“I love you, James.” It’s childish wonder and disbelief in his voice. “I love you so much.”

 

And then, he ruins the moment.

 

“You had R in on that.”

 

It’s a statement, not a question. James laughs.

 

“Needed someone to help me secure the perimeter. There’s a fence that rises so no car but our or another authorised one will have access to the property.” He’s smirking and winks at Q before adding. “Eve too. For the interior design.”

 

They breath in the salty air, so different from the stuffy urban one, so fresh, so cold even in the hot night.

 

They wrangle the suitcases out of the boot in the record time and unpack inside the house before James puts on his light blue swimming trunks (the ones he knows Q has a thing for) and Q just strips before they walk out stand on the beach, just short of where the sand gets wet.

 

And then, they make the step.

 

They rush it, managing those few meters to where the water gets deeper and then Q is falling, and James catches him and they laugh as they end up lying, tangled in the water, James lags next to Q’s tail.

 

“My little fish.”

 

James teases and Q slaps his shoulder, but it’s all in good nature and as they lie down, the ocean in front of them and the starry night above them, Q’s greenish silver scales glistening in the moonlight, they can feel it.

 

The almost tangible magic in the air, that makes their hearts light and the warm water cosy.

  
It’s love.


	6. Chapter 6

 

They end up falling asleep on the hard, but warm sand, the journey getting to them when the adrenaline levels come down. It’s not the most comfortable way to catch sleep and it’s not an hour later that the waves slide up their ankles, still warm enough, but cooling already and interrupting their nap.

 

They wake with new energy and decidedly no will to fall back into slumber, their biological clocks never having worked properly in the job and having slept through parts of the journey.

 

They wake to the stars above them shining bright like they never do in London, light pollution left far behind them. It’s impossibly bright and lit up, that sky that shines above them, when they consider that it’s night and nothing else around. And yet the moon is enough, falling through the translucent waves and making Q’s tail and James’ eyes glow. 

 

They kiss. 

 

They lie together.

 

They bask in cosmic power that surround them, everything so huge and powerful and them so tiny just there, existing in the harmony of the world and somehow it doesn’t matter for this world, as huge as it is, it’s just for them right now, it’s but a blanket they can hide in, covered by the darkness but shining bright as their love for each other.

 

They’re unconventional, as much of an oxymoron as this night, so dark yet lit up all inside, their hearts in the right place and as they beat in sync they don’t doubt it anymore that they do.

 

The brute force of nature that is James Bond has the heart.

 

The cold ruthlessness that is quartermaster of MI6 has the heart.

 

They have the heart that hurts and that can love and even though they sometimes need to remind each other about that it’s not important. They have the heart of each other. They have each other.

 

It’s the dark night on the empty shore somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Portugal and James laughs and jumps up and scoops Q bridal style carrying him out of the water and deeper into the beach, in front of their cottage where he puts him down again and the fall back onto the warm sand letting the hot night embrace them and they laugh and they talk and they kiss.

 

And the stars shine bright above them, in Q’s tail and in James’ eyes.

 

It’s not long before the scorching sand and the stuffy air take the water away and leave Q with his legs tangled around James. 

 

They’re tired by that point, lazily rolling around, sand sticking to them already everywhere they don’t want that and they finally finally drag themselves up, James shedding the no longer blue but sandy trunks and get rid of what they can before going in the cottage through the back door, that leads directly to the bathroom with a huge lovely tub filled with sweet, warm and decidedly not sandy-salty water.

  
They have a soak and snog and leave the water sandy and dirty after and then they rinse with the showerhead  in the tub before James gets out and gently helps Q onto the most soft and comfy rug on the floor. 

 

_ And  _ he proceeds to turn on the floor heating and some huge dryer installed in the cupboard next to them that is drowning them in a pleasurably overwhelming warm breeze.

 

It’s easy to forget how bloody inconvenient it is to bother with all the transformation thing here with James when there’s no hurry, no one to see, time to change back and the temperature so sweet it doesn’t matter how wet they are.

 

And after a while, when they lay there warm and dry and the dryer is off and their legs tangled up, Q leans their foreheads together, kisses James and whispers into the scarce space between them.

 

“You bought this place, didn't you?”

 

Because of course James bloody Bond wouldn’t settle on renting what was available. He would get what was the best.

 

“Built it.” James smiles and puffs out a tiny laugh and Q joins him and in this glee and they finally force themselves to their feet and into the bed that’s huge, soft, comfy and with no small amount of thrilling disbelief, Q realises,  _ theirs. _ And they lay there, side by side, tangled in a harmony of limbs and souls, and they drift away, into their dreams, that have already come true.

 

 

 

 

They wake up just before noon and contemplate heading to the town for a late breakfast-lunch. 

 

“We usually go out for lunch around one, you know?”

 

James just hums in question.

 

“I know, because there’s a lack of activity in my logs around that time.”

 

James raises an eyebrow.

 

“Where are you going with that?”

 

Q nuzzles into his neck sleepily, his eyes never having opened.

 

“Five more minutes.”

 

They get up an hour and thirty seven minutes later and do head to the town in the end for what cannot reasonably be called anything but lunch for breakfast now, but they don’t give it much thought, focusing on devouring the frittata and grilled calamari followed by custard tarts, because while Q prefers bacon over sweets, James has an impossible sweet tooth.

 

They walk around the town, finding their way to the beach and walking on the edge of the sand, both not quite alright with its nasty ability to get everywhere including between toes. Nothing is safe. So they keep their feet on the pavement, walking hand in hand, watching the vast body of water sparkling in the bright summer sun.

 

And as they wander back into the town,  afternoon approaches and the life comes  back onto the streets. 

 

More precisely,  the shops open.

 

And with that, James is gone. He turns into an excited 3-year-old, making Q go into every shop, buying terrifyingly increasing number of clutter,  cooing at every rubber duck and giggling at every sea related article.

 

“Come on, Q, you know. Merpeople.”

 

Another giggle. Another unimpressed look from Q.

 

“Yes, how very observant of you.”

 

They end up purchasing the mermaid rubber duck and Q doesn't even protest when mermaid tea infuser joins their shopping bags.

 

Tea gadgets are never in excess. 

 

Half an hour later James has already bought out almost half of the town.

 

“James, this is way too much!”

 

“Just this one more, Q. We need to have this one!”

 

“Oh dear, oh dear, you have the attention span of Dory.”

 

Another few long suffering sighs later however, Q accomplishes the impossible and drags James back to their house. 

 

Their house. Oh dear, James bought them another house. In Portugal.

 

He doesn't let this fact distract him however and instead focuses on leading James to the Aston. 

 

He still has plans for a swim before the sun sets…

 

 

 

 

 

It is by sheer force of will that Q makes them unpack the shopping bags and deposit all their cluster on the counter before they jump out of clothes, James into the trunks and laughing, the fall into the water. 

 

James puts on the swimming goggles too, a must for him in the beautifully clear water that just begs for admiring eyes. Q, the bastard, laughs at how he looks like a panda in them, his own eyes just as sharp in the water as on the dry land.

 

They swim a good way away from the beach, laughing and splashing water on each other, finding their way toward a shallow, where James can stand as Q drifts and make their stop, looking around the stunning landscape and cherishing the moment.

 

Q smiles at James so softly, so adoringly it makes James blush.

 

“Thank you for this.”

 

James looks like he wants to say something to that, but settles on staying silent instead, smiling sheepishly instead and nodding.

 

“I really couldn’t imagine a better gift. Even the Aston pales in comparison. And before you say anything to that, I don’t even mean… You bought us a house, James! A house! In Portugal! That’s just amazing, but I mean the holidays too. I think we both really needed that. I think it’s better than the house itself. This. A chance to just be ourselves, to regenerate, just relax. Thank you.”

 

He looked over a little embarrassed, but there was pure love in James eyes and in lieu of an anwer all he did was lean in for a kiss.

 

“We deserve it. Just a while for ourselves, to be Nathan and James full time, not having 007 and Q breathing on our necks.”

 

They stayed like that, tangled together, James legs around Q’s hips, wet foreheads touching, James’ goggles pushed up on his hair, Q’s tail making slow circles under them, keeping them afloat.

 

“We  _ are  _ swimming to this island. I like it. I want to reach it.”

 

And there goes the ambience. James hums and nods with a smirk.

 

“Oh really. The go on. Swim. I am bloody exhausted, Nathan.” He goes on as he clings tight to Q’s back, snuggled in and wrapped around the merman. “We spent the whole day in the town, in a scorching hot sun and in case you didn’t notice, it is actually quite a distance from the beach to those rocks.” He nuzzled in, his head fitting against Q’s neck. “And in case you didn’t notice, I don’t have a tail.”

 

Q looks on in astonishment for a while, as his boyfriend once again proves to be a petulant child before laughing, caressing James’ cheek and taking them towards the island, almost flying over the waves now that he has no need to wait for James.

 

He has no problem with waiting for James, it being a chance on its own to dive in, explore, look around. It’s fun, shenanigans Q never really allowed himself before, never really had a chance for. 

 

But this a glide like he couldn’t hope to even attempt in the pool, this is sheer speed and power that wakes something wild and joyful in Q, this freedom. 

 

They make a gentle stop not far from the island and finding a nice spot on a huge rock, the stone carved into smooth curves, dulled by waves, and James climbs off Q, helping him get on the hot surface of sun burned stone, the warmth seeping into their cold skin, the best feeling in the world after the freezing current that overtook the water this morning.

 

They lay down together, cuddled comfortably even on the hard surface, feeling peaceful as the sun begins to set, a fierce flame drowning in the water, laid to rest before the next morning, letting the shiny silver of moon have its five minutes.

 

James looks at how Q’s moist skin shine sin the dying light of the day and cannot resist slipping his fingers on its surface, a gentle caress from shoulder down to the very tail…

 

Q bursts out laughing.

 

It’s a  _ very  _ interesting discovery, that Q’s tail has tickles.

 

James explores it thoroughly, to Q’s continued irritated giggles. 

 

When he finally calms down it is not for long as the shenanigans have them both in a very excited mood now. So obviously, they end up making out on the hard surface and obviously, James ends up complaining about his back. 

 

Q indulges him and drags him back to the land by letting him sit on his tail.

 

He does snort though when the moment they hit the beach James forgets the aching back and swoops Q onto his shoulder laughing as he carries him to the house.

 

And presents him with--

 

“What the hell is this, James?”

 

Q look at the knitted… green merman tail in disbelief as he towels his body to a semblance of dryness on the poor carpet.

 

“It’s a blanket. It even fits your tail. You can snuggle comfily into our bed that way without getting me all wet.” He says with a way too smug look but Q cannot really glare at him when he can feel a grin slipping through.

 

He loves the bloody thing already just as much as the tea infuser. Smug bastard of a spy boyfriend has perks. He can always know just what you need. Comes with working for the Six.

 

He makes sure James stays away and does  _ not  _ help him get into the blanket as he knows it would end with James making use of the new discovery about tickly tail, which is decidedly less fun than the laughter would suggest and only after he gets in, and discovers it is a bloody warm, soft wonder.

  
He allows James to get him up and lay him on the bed, the man himself curling around his merman. They fall asleep that way and in the morning, Q makes up with his legs in a soft knitted cocoon and decides that if he can transform like that every day, he definitely loves this little gift of James’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the long wait, but this chapter is three parts and Uni applications had me busy too... BUT I AM GOING TO STUDY LAW AT JAGIELLONIAN UNIVERSITY SO FUCK YEAH! Hope you enjoyed it and it worth the wait. Don't forget comments are life.


	7. Chapter 7

 

This morning, Q makes James spit his lungs out trying to blow the mattress before giving in and showing him the hidden electric pump. He then proceeds to snog his very red and irritated boyfriend until he forgets he was angry with him and makes him tow him through the water on it so he can enjoy the sunbathing and ocean while staying dry.

 

It’s not that much of a fight. He knows James is enjoying it too. 

 

The cold water makes the mattress deflate just a tiny bit, making it deliciously soft and swingy, rising and falling and lulling Q into a restful nap with the gentle movement of the waves. It’s peaceful, warming in a way that has nothing to do with air temperature and heading quickly towards a promise of a lobster red burns, so not 10 minutes later, James leaves Q floating around and takes a swim to the house, to retrieve a waterproof bag holding a towel, sun cream and some cluster only Q probably knows by name. 

 

James takes a while to dry his hands and carefully climb up the mattress next to Q in a way that won’t sprinkle water on his darling boffin fae, and then takes his sweet time applying the sn cream on Q with a gentle massage.

 

And Q, decidedly, does  _ not,  _ purr. 

 

Maybe a little.

 

James’ body gets to dry during that time, and after giving himself a quick layer of sun cream, he lies down next to Q.

 

“Nathan?”

 

A questioning hum comes from a gooey puddle of sleepy contentment net to him.

 

“I love you.”

 

The puddle shakes a bit with lazy chuckle, not opening his eyes.

 

“Yeah. Love you too.” He makes an effort to open his eyes then and peck James on the lips. “Idiot.”

 

James only smiles at this and they spend the morning like that, sprawled like cats on the mattress on the crystal blue surface of the ocean, in the scorching sun of Portugal, Q’s legs up in the air as if he were a teenage princess on a meadow, James’ in the water, keeping them vaguely at the same distance from the beach.

 

***

 

The sun is up high already when James finally extracts himself from a tangle of inshumanely clingy limbs to jump into a   _ freezing cold what the hell--  _ water. And taking a few breaths, chastising himself for not taking it slow as Q laughs his ass off, leaves his boyfriend to frying himself and swims back to the beach, getting out of the water and heading home to prepare the dinner.

 

He considers the idyllic picture Q makes floating just a few meters from him and smiles, deciding to make muffins too as he enters the house, for it would be a shame, after all, to let those cute (don’t let anyone hear him say it) bakey stuff he purchased lay abandoned.

He sets to work with enrgy and determination, and little does he know he will need it.

 

Not long after that, Q perks up on his private inflatable yacht, as a piercing scream comes  from the house…

 

_ Is the dinner fighting back? _

 

...and another.

 

_ Clearly,  _ James is not be left unsupervised with things with pointy or sharp ends and no enemy to attack.

 

***

 

It’s not easy. The short distance to the beach is miles for Q who cannot afford the transformation and long time of drying. It’s suddenly very scary and overwhelming. T’s huge, vast the amount of water between  him and James. His greatest friend, his natural enclave, his biggest enemy. 

 

He’s hesitant and confused. He’s at loss what to do for once, with nothing to act as an oar, no engine, no way to push the mattress on an annoyingly calm water.

 

He extends his hand above the water, as if he wanted to push through it, but very aware he can’t. And the water just… moves.

Q gulps, looking in astonishment at the tiny waves following his hand, running away from it. He creates circles and lines on the water, not quite believing still it’s possible. It happened once already, this strange power thing, when he needed it, with the claws  - and it looks like it’s back.

 

Testing, Q pushes his hand forward further, fully aware he may get wet if he’s wrong, but to curious to care now. He attacks the water and it retreats with surprising speed and force.

 

There may be a rule to this. Because this, is exactly what he needs right now.

 

Carefully shifting on the mattress, Q sits at the end of it, cupping his hands and creating a tiny engine from them, moving to the beach in no time. He jumps down to the dry sand, excited and pumped up now, but it’s then that another cry comes from the house and Q forgets the newfound power in an instant, running to see what has James done this time.

 

He comes inside to find a delicious smell greeting him, a hot, huge bowl of king prawns risotto on the table and a plate of frankly adorable mermaid cupcakes next to it. In the kitchen, at the counter, he finds his boyfriend beating cookie dough to death.

 

Poor, poor cookie dough.

 

He gently takes hold of James, trying to calm him down.

 

“James, James, calm down… What  _ are  _ you doing?”

 

James takes a moment to come back to reality, looking at Q and suddenly deflating.

 

“I burned myself while cooking prawns, and then while boiling the water for rice, and I spilled the sprinkles for the cupcakes and while I was sweeping that I hit my head on a cupboard, and the peanut butter cookies shouldn’t be that hard to make, should they?”

 

He has such resignation in his eyes, it makes Q smile and bring him close into a hug, kissing his forehead.

 

“I just wanted it to be perfect.”

 

Q laughs.

 

“It is. I am not sure if I like the cupcakes theme, though.”

 

They both laugh, the tension gone, and Q helps James finish the cookies before they sit down to devour the risotto. 

 

James bring the mattress in, remembering the electric pump as he deflates it, while Q watches the cookies finish and brings them out of the oven.

 

That night, the calm ocean wakes up in rage as the storm overtakes the shore. It’s pure, raw and powerful, shaking the foundations of the cliff, but not able to win its battle against James’ tiny fortress. He and Q lay down on the couch as the darkness drowns the night and watch movies, while chomping on cookies and cupcakes in between scenes.

  
It’s ridiculously calm and domestic contrasted with violent force of nature raging outside. They fall asleep on top of each other, the TV still on, the crumbs sticking into their bacs and the couch too small a space. It’s perfect.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day comes with  a wave of heat even more fierce than the previous one, the sun drying the sand in no time.

 

The sky seems clear now, but the stifling hot betrays the weather and James can feel that the storm will be back in time.

 

Q, however, doesn’t seem to mind, or notice, and James knows there will be no discouraging him from the swim. He sighs, deciding they may as well grab one freezing bath in the ocean and tries to give himself some courage by thinking of a warm dinner and cuddles later.

 

Q is something else in the water. Ethereal, is the word that comes to James’ mind most often. Natural and graceful. Temperature, salt, the sandy water near the beach, it’s all nothing to him, the man relishing in the feeling of water around him in any way. He can slither around the beach, get away from the shallows to dive in with an astonishing speed, drag shivering, shocked James behind before he can even register the atrocious cold wave embracing him. 

 

It takes time to get used to it. The water isn’t that cold, not really, well over twenty degrees Celsius, but still under the comfortable thirty-something that James takes his showers in. It takes a few long, freezing cold moments before his body finally settles and the water become a refreshing touch rather than overwhelming ice attack. Q is wrapping himself around James, the velcro habits kicking in as always, and it’s hard to deny it’s helping too.

 

There is a shelf at the end of the beach that James adapted to be a parking spot for the Aston and a diving board both, as the sea gets deeper towards the cliffs. There is a huge stairway to heaven, as Q likes to call it, leading from the water to the diving board and up to the cliff, where the ocean is deeper and water even more transparent. Q and Bond spend their day exploring the bottom there, where there are hundreds of colourful fish and other creatures swimming around. 

 

(Bond had once managed to get on a wrong side of a jellyfish, but that didn’t discourage him.)

 

Now, the agent makes Q follow him there before sitting on the lowest step, looking way to seductive and luring his merman to him in an ironic role reversal. When he finally managed to get Q to kiss him and sit up on his lap for a cuddle James takes his chance.

 

He grabs his boyfriend bridal style and ignoring Q squeaks and demands to be put down begins the road up the cliff. Q quickly forgets his complaints, nestling himself more securely in James’ arms, his own around his neck, eyes wide and looking at the vast space that unravels in front of them, the endless blue of the ocean, the water as clear as James’ eyes, the cliffs flowing in a ribbon on the horizon, their tiny house down on the small beach.

 

When he turns, he can see the road to the town so slim and graceful between the fields.

 

The moment they are up and Q knows James is stable on his feet, he attacks him, drawing him for a snog before crashing him in a hug, muttering thank yous into his neck. 

 

James gently deposits Q on the edge of the cliff before stepping to the right, his toes behind the edge, muscular body glistening with water droplets as he prepares himself, standing tall and beautiful and Q tries not to stare, but then remembers he can stare and then James  _ winks  _ at him before taking a perfect graceful dive in, plummeting down into the water and Q is captivated.

 

He shifts a bit, looking at James who resurfaced and is now looking up at Q, his smile barely visible from up there, but his hand making it clear he’s encouraging Q to go on and jump and Q is terrified but excited and Q never really did anything like that before but he  _ wants to,  _ so before he can talk himself out of it, he pushes himself with all his strength of the cliff with his hands and tail, turning around to face the water face first and the wind is all around him, the cast space and the ocean is encompassing him so fast and it’s brilliant and powerful and amazing.

 

James laughs as he swims to Q, giving him a peck on the cheek and letting him catch his breath before he comments of Q’s grin.

 

“Good idea?”

 

Q just grins some more.

 

When James was young and going through his MI6 funded Uni, he took up a hobby of freediving and Q loves him all the more for that, because James didn’t just offer him a chance to explore the ocean, but a chance to explore it together, no matter how deep.

In the end though, the end up swimming towards the island again, both eager to get some rest after a long swim, aware water can be more exhausting than the most thorough workout.

 

As they climb up and lie down to soak in the sun though, they are in for a surprise.

 

“How is that? Even possible… We’re in a middle of an ocean, James!”

 

“Maybe those particular two just like water?”

 

He is gaping too, though and the glare Q gives him assures him that sentence was as stupid as he thought it was.

 

And then, the grey tabby jumps into the water only to resurface with an absolutely stunning deep silver tail.

 

“James!”

 

The name comes out of Q more as a high pitched squeal as his nails dig into the agent’s arm, obviously enamoured.

 

“Let me guess. Can we keep him?”

 

Q looks at him with big, big eyes like he is debating something, biting his lip.

 

“Yes. No. We cannot. But. I want to. He could be our resident Portuguese cat? To keep the house safe when we’re not here.”

 

James snorts at the idea of security cat, but cannot help but find the whole thing a bit adorable. Q is so enchanted he forgets to focus on the science behind the tail like he usually would, instead cuddling the creatures, caressing the silver tail of grey tabby and burying his hands in the pure white fur of the still dry one.

 

Her tail, it later turns out, is golden and Q decides she is theirs, the two immediately taking to each other and swimming to the shore side by side, where James keeps them company while they dry.

 

Q decides to leave the bath for later, shaking and toweling the sand off for now, and doing the same to Naomi, who is protesting and apparently already named, though James has no idea when that happened.

 

The end up watching the sunset from the terrace while eating baked potatoes before they have to run in due to the cold. 

 

As it becomes clear there is another storm coming James declares he will not deal with freezing cold water yet again and suggests a trip to Lisbon that they planned to be the next day. Q, eager to see the city since the beginning, easily agrees and they decide to finish a day with a long, refreshing bath, peaches and white wine - just a glass for James, who is dubbed driver by way to smug (and a little dizzy) Q.

 

Traditionally, they cuddle on the soft rugs on the bathroom floor as Q’s tail dries and disappears and James carries Q to bed bridal style, Q laughing his ass off and warning him not to make a habit of that, and claiming he is not a bride (James pointedly not answering that) but enjoying it anyway.

 

They snuggle under the covers as the storm begins its tale of power and anger and safety outside, and Q reads the story of Lisbon from the guide they got on their way as James listens to him with wide eyes, in love with the voice and the man.

 

They put the book down early though, fully aware of the fact they have to get up with the sun to get to Lisbon early and tired after the day of swimming.

  
They fall asleep with the lamp still on, casting gentle glow around, Naomi at the foot of the bed, the book lying discarded on the mattress, legs tangled and faces relaxed, free of responsibility, stress, tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for late update, but better late than never! I had an awful case of writer's block, but the flow is back and hopefully so are updates.


	9. Chapter 9

It’s one of those days that stay in one’s mind forever and Q knows he will always be able to recall it fondly. And yet, if anyone asked Q later to describe what he was doing that day, he would probably have a problem with that. 

 

After a chilly morning of fresh air and open roads, little hell of finding parking space including one heated argument after James took a wrong turn and ended up on a parking where they wanted his keys and a few rounds of watching Lisbon from the car while they looked for another free space, it is all a bit of a blur.

 

Admittedly, a very beautiful rainbow coloured blur, but a blur nonetheless. Q is a little sheepish about that, but not very regretful.

 

He tries to pay attention at first, but it quickly becomes clear to him, that James probably remembers more from what he heard from Q than Q himself, who have been reading the guide and is also dead set on recounting every paragraph in front of the building/monument/historical site they are currently admiring. It isn’t long though, before Q tunes this personal audio guide of his out, knowing most of it by heart and instead relishes in being surrounded by beauty and art… and Bond.

 

He does of course, remember the Belem Tower, and the Castelo and wandering about Alfama, but it’s a detached sort of memory, less about touristic interest and attention and more about the feeling of James’ hand in his, his voice a constant hum of information, his presence by his side while they take in the city.

 

He can describe in detail the dinner they had, and the dessert James decided to feed him, to Q’s horror, despite the fact they weren’t alone in the restaurant. He cannot remember the restaurant itself. He doesn’t have any problem recalling a walk they took later either, when James caught him and pretended to throw him into a fountain, while really carefully avoiding splashing any water onto him. 

 

He doesn’t even care about the name of that church they saw after, and only vaguely recalls the museum’s of something exhibits, but he does remember almost dozing off on James’ shoulder during that afternoon.

 

He will never forget the kind of exasperated, amused, but warm feeling when James dragged him into Lisbon Aquarium.

 

Strangely, he remembers the aquarium, but not where James wandered off during half of that time. He had fun. He finds it somewhat stereotypical, awfully ironic and downright strange, but he doesn’t care.

 

Lisbon was a blur of energy, music and lights. It was holding hands and being surrounded by beauty and feeling the sun warm you up from the inside. But now? Now it’s over and Q only realises now, that Lisbon was also very tiring.

 

He is watching the stars pop up in the sky, one by one, and he knows that even though James is probably as tired as he is, James will drive them home safely, tuck in Q, who will probably be asleep by then, and still, he will not slid under the covers with him, but go out and take pictures of that night sky on a surprisingly clear night.

  
James will indeed stand there, capturing the beauty of night sky, but his mind will be somewhere else. He will take his moment and get absolutely stunning pictures, but to him, they will be imperfect. He will decide that he must ask Q to pose to them the next night, cold sand under his feet making him feel empty and sending a shiver through his body and James will take the tripod and the camera and head in. For a moment, he will stand in the doorway of the bedroom, watching the lean silhouette of the asleep boffin, before he takes his day’s attire off and changing into boxers, fall into slumber next to his Q.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to wave pitchforks at me. I am sorry for being so late, I didn't even realise! It is all because this one was hard... mainly due to the fact I never ever have been to Lisbon. There. So I take no responsibility for any bad I did to the city in my poor attempts at walking the boys through it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today it's a little 00Q misadventure, or humour bordering on crack to make up for my long absence. Hopefully next updates will be more regular.

The morning is beautiful and hot and James is still asleep, tired out by the late night driving, so when the smell of bacon doesn’t wake him up Q munches up breakfast alone (certainly not  _ staring _ at his boyfriend) and decides to go for a morning swim.

 

For a moment, he contemplates leaving a note, but James looks dead to the world and Q doesn’t plan to be out for too long.

 

So he leaves his clothes on the bed and goes out, taking a dive and breathing in, feeling the sweet (metaphorically), cold water around him.

 

He swims further down the beach, where is reaches the smaller cottages downtown, stretches still stiff, sleepy muscles and just enjoys the beauty of the nature surrounding him.

 

He’s content.

 

And then, he gets kidnapped.

 

***

 

It’s the most stupid circumstances possible that bring on this unfortunate situation.

 

Q knows he should be more careful, but he left the downtown long behind and the beach he’s near seems abandoned so Q allows himself to swim closer to the sand to take a while to rest.

 

He doesn’t see two men sitting near the trees line until it’s too late.

 

Quickly getting over their initial shock, the two townsmen take quick action before Q can swim away.

 

And no matter how many self defence lessons he takes from James, or how strong and heavy his tail is, in the end, Q is a classic boffin who is absolutely useless when it comes to actual fighting in a real danger situation.

 

That, is how Q ends up in a fishing net, of all things, due to lack of anything else at hand, cursing at the men profusely.

 

They gag him the moment they reach the house.

 

***

 

James wakes up long after noon to find the bed next to him empty, unless he counts Q’s discarded t-shirt.

 

He allows himself five more minutes of sweet laziness before finally dragging himself out of the bed and going to the kitchen to rummage through the fridge.

 

He is pleasantly surprised to find breakfast ready and waiting for him.

 

And cold.

 

Clearly, Q must have been up for a while.

 

After eating, James changes into his swimming trunks, puts his waterproof Omega back on and goes out, expecting to see Q on the beach or in the water.

 

But their little piece of paradise seems empty.

 

Confused, but not alarmed yet, as he knows Q loves taking a swim a bit further, James enters the water, shivering slightly at the sudden change of temperature, and takes a swim around.

Q is nowhere in sight.

 

Naomi, however, suddenly appears around James and starts to swim around him, frantically waving her tail. James is sure where they above the water she would be hissing. 

 

He breaks the surface and wants to try and calm the cat down, but she grabs his watch in her teeth and starts to drag James in a set direction.

 

And James, for once, decides to listen.

 

He’s extremely grateful that he did when on a beach Naomi leads him to he can see tracks of two pairs of feet dragging something heavy behind them.

 

There is a fishing net and some scales laying around.

 

***

 

It is only by supernatural force of MI6 inflicted discipline that allows James not to rush straight after Q.

 

Instead, he comes back to the cottage and changes into comfortable trousers and tee and grabs his gun on the way out.

 

Locating Q is a child’s game.

 

The tracks lead him straight to a house behind the treeline near the beach where Q was kidnapped.

 

And as James approaches the basement window to sneak in, something heavy connects with his head from behind.

 

***

 

“You are useless, James, you are a disgrace to a whole double-oh section, you bring shame to all MI6!”

 

James comes to to the shouting of his boyfriend, only to find out he is in the basement he planned to break into, tied up to still merman Q, back to back.

 

As he turns his head, he finds out there is a gag around Q’s neck. 

 

For a moment he wishes the boffin hadn’t worked it out. Or stopped shouting. Wishful thinking.

 

“Dishonour on you, dishonour on your family, dishonour on you cow!”

 

He takes the knife out of his shoe and begins to work on the ropes, letting Q rant.

 

“Dishonour on you Aston, Bond!”

 

Damn. He deserved that one.

 

As he finally frees them and takes Q up, lifting him in a bridal hold, the younger man finally stops being loud and settles on glaring at Bond instead.

 

Bond gingerly helps him out of the window and follows himself, carrying Q all the way back to the cottage.

 

The sun is setting by the time they get there and James is actually damn tired, because Q cannot stop wiggling and insulting him.

 

James however, stays silent.

 

It’s not like he doesn't really agree with Q.

 

He fucked up.

 

But it was supposed to be holidays, okay? Kidnapping wasn’t planned.

 

Q’s legs change the moment they enter the beach, passing next to the dishonored Aston Martin.

 

James considers letting his boffin down, but is met with a glare that says it all.

 

“I have the shittiest knight in the soaked armour ever. At least get me to bed. I don’t have it in me to wash today.”

 

James fully supports him on that matter.

 

He gets them inside, deposits Q in the bed, gets out of his clothes and collapses next to him.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“You should be.”

 

Q grumbles, but he snuggles up next to the agent and they both fall into an exhausted sleep.

 

The next day will be better.

 

It certainly cannot be  _ worse. _

  
  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The family i never dared to dream of.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973502) by [QHolmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QHolmes/pseuds/QHolmes)




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